


Unreasoning

by taonsils (mirokkuma)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirokkuma/pseuds/taonsils
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Junmyeon has stayed in three hotels in three days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unreasoning

**Author's Note:**

> For Cat for 'knocking on the wrong door au' from the ficlet prompt meme on tumblr. I'm sorry it took me forever to get round to the first of your prompts T__T and sorry if it's an odd take on this prompt, the idea just got stuck with me.

Junmyeon has stayed in three hotels in three days. The stop-over hotel had been cramped, amber-lit. Junmyeon woke three times and knelt up the second, pushed back the curtain and watched the glowing unrest surrounding an airport. He remembers how cold his fingertips felt from the window then, fourteen (eighteen?) hours ago. His tongue feels numb behind his teeth but he can't remember if the coffee Jongdae passed him while they waited for their room had scalded it.  
  
The first hotel had used keycards too, white and green with the room number embossed (the second was older; their key was half the weight of the plastic bar attached to it). This hotel is the one they paid out for and the card in his hand is pale silver. The chain's logo is under Junmyeon's thumb. He turns it and finds the metallic strip, nothing else.  
  
Jongdae is easy to travel with, good at shepherding Junmyeon around and the best kind of company — talkative and placid in equal measure, so attuned to how Junmyeon traverses public spaces that his stepping in is instinctual, never draws attention. Junmyeon is thankful to have him around and cursing him,  _cursing_  Jongdae for talking him into coming all the way out here. They could have just found a new job.  
  
The room number was inside the pearlescent envelope the card was handed to him in, he remembers now. Remembers the strip of numbers when he pulled the card out, telling Jongdae he just wanted to spend some time outside after so long breathing in cabin air. It was already dark by the time he'd found his way to the pool, humidity making his lungs damp after the hotel's a/c drying them raw. The number was four digits and the second was definitely 6. Junmyeon was going to tell Jongdae that at one end of the pool there was a real tropical tree and at the other a fake one.  
  
It's just a brief lapse of memory thanks to the traveling, Junmyeon is sure, and he takes the stairs. The second floor has green carpet with gold designs. He'd been carrying a bag, walking in the tracks of Jongdae's pullalong — green.  
  
Junmyeon treads the plush carpet back and forth, stepping on golden peacocks and twisting vines, eyes scanning the walls for familiar paintings. The tighter his chest aches the more he smiles, and he tells himself what a beautiful place this is to explore twice in his head and twice more with his tongue. The attacks have never exactly been  _under control_ , as his last work report said. They've lessened, they're certainly less frequent. Jongdae is good at offsetting them. Junmyeon has a special playlist on his iPod. Jongdae and his iPod are both behind one of these doors, and— there's at least fourty on this floor, but the second number was definitely 6 — if Jongdae were here Junmyeon wouldn't even have damp palms. If they were lost together Jongdae would laugh. (Jongdae would know to go back down to reception and ask, but Junmyeon's nape is flared heat while his body is cold chills and it's on this floor,  _somewhere._ His world has shrunk to a pinpoint).  
  
Nothing feels familiar about the stretch of hallway in front of 2643, but Junmyeon's pulse calms to a more solid thud at 2646. Repetitive and easy to remember. A splintered chip out of the doorframe.  
  
"Jon _g_ —," his voice sounds like his heartbeat. He knocks three times, head bowed and mouth close to the door. "Jongdae, I just got  _completely_ lost. I thought I was.. I started to worry. We've been traveling way too long." The more he leans into his own shadow and talks the easier it gets to smile. He starts to feel the tingle of heat across his knuckles more than the pricking at his neck.  
  
His head is still low as the door clicks open and he knows it's not Jongdae. Jongdae wasn't wearing — probably doesn't even own a powder blue shirt. Not-Jongdae's face is a long way up.  
  
Junmyeon tries to apologise for disturbing him but the rest of him has other ideas. His knees go first — this doesn't happen often, often enough that he puts a hand out before his senses briefly flick off. The wall takes the bulk of his weight and not-Jongdae's hands find his elbow, yanking his arm at an angle to stop him from going down.  
  
"I'm ok. I'm sorry, I'm— ok, please, I'm so sorry for, you don't have to." Junmyeon's not sure he sounds as convincingly apologetic as he feels, but it doesn't make much difference when not-Jongdae has more strength in the one arm around his waist than Junmyeon seems to in his whole body. Not-Jongdae's room is identical to their own but reversed. Junmyeon remembers now, the chip of paint was on the bathroom door frame. "Thank you. Sorry."  
  
The ringing in Junmyeon's ears hasn't subsided enough yet for not-Jongdae's reply to entirely register. Junmyeon stares down at the floor, elbow to knee, forehead to palm, and he breathes deep despite the rising nausea taking the opportunity of his open mouth. His scalp feels cold and his face feels like it's burning, wet.  
  
"Do you know what's wrong?" not-Jongdae asks. He led Junmyeon to a chair and sat on the bed opposite, folded in to give Junmyeon space. Junmyeon can see his linked fingers, ornate with rings. "Do you need sugar?"  
  
His Korean doesn't sound native; it takes Junmyeon longer to process what he's saying with the shot to his system still spiking through.  
  
"No, I'm— I'm sorry." Junmyeon's lips purse tight. It's ok. He's ok. "I have.. This happens sometimes when I get stressed. I've been traveling for a long time, it just caught up with me."  
  
"You faint on strangers."  
  
The tone doesn't sound playful. Junmyeon's head is heavy to lift, but it's to find not-Jongdae grinning, pleased with himself.  
  
"Yeah. Bad habit." Junmyeon smiles back. Not-Jongdae has slicked dark hair and eyes darker still, glitter flecked, and looks as though he's probably going to be somewhere glamorous soon. Junmyeon's shirt is sticking to his back.  
  
"I caught you," not-Jongdae states, further pleased. "I'm Tao," he offers, leaning further off the bed. "T - A - O." he enunciates, cranes his neck.  
  
"Oh," Junmyeon says, and nods.  
  
"Tao," he repeats, insistent and pronounced. The way his head twists reminds Junmyeon of an owl. Memorising and repeating Tao's name is now Junmyeon's main priority — not locating his room, his best friend, nor adjusting to the time difference well in advance of the conference.  
  
"Junmyeon," he returns once Tao has nodded his approval of Junmyeon's pronunciation.  
  
Tao feels out the ending twice before shrugging. "Can't say it. Junma is ok."  
  
Junmyeon frowns at him. And then he realises he has clarity again, that his hands aren't trembling quite so violently. Oh, it was distraction. "Ok," he says, and then again: "I'm sorry.  
  
I only just arrived, I got lost. Thought this was my room."  
  
"Nope." Tao looks amused and Junmyeon wonders if he's ever seen lips purse into a pinched smile that way before. "I've been here a week."  
  
Conversation comes easy for moments, until Junmyeon becomes aware of Tao's clothing behind his back on the chair, Tao's space entirely inhabited and himself entirely out of place here. "I should," he starts, but he's not even shifted his weight to the arms of the chair when Tao shoots out a hand, palm open. Stay put.  
  
"I don't mind if you need longer. Don't get up until you're sure."  
  
Junmyeon shakes his head. His hair feels damp at the roots, but his pulse is considerably more steady. "You look like you were ready to go somewhere nice, I don't want to keep you."  
  
Tao touches a hand to his hair before shrugging. "No. This is just.. I only got back a little while ago." He gestures to the bed against the wall and Junmyeon squints. It's hard to see if the sheets have the same pattern as the ones in his own room for the sea of bags covering them. "That's my whole weeks worth," he quickly adds, "I dunno how I'm going to get it all home.  
  
I bought a hat kind of by accident. It's really horrible, I might leave it behind."  
  
"That bad?"  
  
"I don't think it'd fit on the plane." Tao stretches his arms out, fingers spread. Junmyeon knuckles his lower lip to keep back a smile. Tao takes that as a good sign, hands still raised as animatedly starts describing some of his finds.  
  
Junmyeon is in the midst of learning about the importance of what time of day you go to which types of store when his phone buzzes against the keycard in his back pocket. Tao's voice drops away, eyes intent.  
  
"Sorry, it's my friend. Wondering if I fell in the pool." Junmyeon swipes the screen and types with a thumb. They both wait for the next message, and when it arrives Junmyeon pinches at the bridge of his nose. "I had the right number, I was just two floors out."  
  
  
Junmyeon had neither the strength nor the heart to tell Tao he'd be completely safe to see himself back to the correct room. He's sure he'll feel that much better for the familiarity of Jongdae, but Tao is close to his side and visibly wary of the stability of his steps as they make their way up the staircase.  
  
They turn off two floors up. Junmyeon makes an abrupt stop at the edge of the corridor carpeting and Tao walks straight into him.  
  
"Blue," Junmyeon cries mournfully, lifting a foot as though it'll be stuck to the underneath of his shoe. "I was so sure I had the right floor but it wasn't even the right colour."  
  
"Close to green." Tao peers over Junmyeon's shoulder like looking at it from his perspective will make a difference. "It's not like it's  _that_  bad that you got the wrong floor."  
  
He sounds like he's pouting. Junmyeon doesn't turn to look, but he wishes his head didn't feel quite so much like there's water sloshing around inside it.  
  
  
"So you came out here for the sales?" Junmyeon recognises the stretch of hallway before his door now they're here, but he still gives the card drawn from his back pocket and uncertain look.  
  
"No." Tao folds his arms over his chest and toes at a pattern in the carpet. "It was too late to cancel. The sales made it worth still coming though."  
  
"Ah. So you—" Junmyeon put the card in the wrong way up — the light above it flashes red. The sound must have alerted Jongdae; before Junmyeon can try again the door swings open.  
  
"Back in one piece," Jongdae's yawn misshapes the words, and Junmyeon gives him a long-worn look of grateful apology. Tao shuffles in the background. Jongdae presses a hand to his hair to flatten it down but otherwise doesn't appear too put out by the addition of a stranger. "Thanks?" he squints up at Tao, the light from the hall harsher than he's got the room dimmed.  
  
"I just wanted to make sure he got back ok." Tao shifts again, watching Jongdae's eyes darting unashamedly over him before dropping back to his friend.  
  
"Did the nice big man pull you out of the pool?" Jongdae grins, wider as Junmyeon's face visibly warms.  
  
"I didn't fall in the pool!" Junmyeon calls after Jongdae as he turns back into the dim room. He takes a step in after him, pauses, turns back. Tao gives him an unreadably tight look.  
  
"Thank you again. And sorry, again." Junmyeon dips his head in a bow, shoulder still propping the door open.  
  
"You won't forget." Tao doesn't return his smile, tight lipped. "Right?"  
  
Junmyeon wonders if he missed something. Maybe it's not water in his head. Cotton fluff, dust, maybe all that bread he ate on the flight when he couldn't stomach a full meal. "No—?"  
  
"That it's two floors down. Green carpet."  
  
Oh. "Oh."  
  
" _Oh_ ," Jongdae contributes from inside the room, his laugh nasal and sounding out into the hallway.  
  
Tao looks away with a smile, clearing his throat and trying a less blunt approach this time. "I mean, I'll be here another week, so maybe, if you find your way back down that way.."  
  
"There could be less fainting next time," Junmyeon says in agreement, because it's the first thing that comes to mind. It's high on the list of lamest things he's said this week. Thankfully he's too tired to remember many of the others for comparison. "When we're not working and bargaining."  
  
Tao nods, biting into a smile. "Whenever that is, then."   
  
Junmyeon manages to fit in another thank you as he gives a little wave goodbye. Tao returns it, hears Junmyeon whining to his friend to stop laughing as the door eases shut behind him.


End file.
